


Paradise in stasis

by jestbee



Series: Fic Every Day in June 2018 [14]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holiday, Jamaica, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: He could stay here forever, suspended in a moment without having to commit to a single sensation.





	Paradise in stasis

**Author's Note:**

> For the @phandomficfests summer sounds flash fest

Dan doesn't open his eyes when the creaking starts. It's been happening every five minutes or so from somewhere above him, a metallic screech, a flap of canvas as the sail changes direction. He feels the boat bob underneath him and his legs dip further into the water where they are dangled over the side. 

There is a slapping of water against his shins and a sucking wet sound as it rushes in under the boat, rising and falling against waves. Dan sighs contentedly.

The Jamaican sun is hot on his face, beating down with an intensity and he can feel that the ends of his hair have dried already, haphazard curls around his face. Everything is sun-drenched and warm and there are ambient sounds of people chatting at the fore of the boat, watching the sea stretching out around them. 

Dan had been talking to them earlier, jumping in and out of water and socialising. Now he's laying on the back of a bobbing sailboat, his feet dragging in the water, eyes closed against the brightness of the sun. 

He can hear the steady inhale-exhale of Phil's breathing by his side. Across his chest and arms, Dan's skin is tight and warm with dried sea water, his legs from the knee down loose and slick with the lapping tide. If he were to reach his hand out a mere six inches to his left he'd brush up against Phil's. Instead, he drums his fingers onto the deck, a dull thud. 

"Hm?" Phil says, and Dan knows without looking that he hasn't opened his eyes either. 

"Hm," Dan says in response. 

He's not sure what the conversation is supposed to mean, but it's nice anyway. 

The water is cool on his ankles, periodically rising around his shins as the boat lurches, and he's half-hot half-cooled, stuck between one thing and another. He could stay here forever, suspended in a moment without having to commit to a single sensation. 

He twitches his fingers, picking his pinky up from where it's flat against the fibreglass floor and stretching it out and away, hooking over the top of Phil's finger, stroking lightly. 

"Yeah?" Phil asks, and he still hasn't opened his eyes. 

"Should we get up?" 

"Nuhh," Phil complains, but Dan hears his head turning towards him, the rustle of his hair against the textured deck. 

Dan blinks his eyes open and looks back. Everything washed in a blue tint, the sun filtered through his closed lids for so long that the whole world looks different for a moment when his eyes adjust. 

The island has crept back alongside the boat. Grey cliffs with moss-green hats and sparkling blue silky waves lapping at their bases. Phil's face is up close, in focus while the cliffs remain blurry and Dan blinks a little bit, trying to put the entire picture together. 

He gets a brief flash of the night before. White hotel sheets and an inky black sky blinking in at them through their cracked balcony door. A light breeze ruffling chiffon curtains inward to graze the foot of the bed where they lay tangled in each other. It was decadent and uninhibited, being truly alone on an island far far away from home. Feeling grown up in their hotel room, mussing sheets they didn't have to wash, making noise without care for the people in the next room. 

"It's nice here," Phil says, squinting against the bright light.

It's beaming over Dan's shoulder where he's rolled his body a bit towards Phil. He can see his own shadow cast over the length of Phil's side and feel the warmth of it on his back. His feet are still in the water. 

"Paradise," Dan agrees. "Can we just stay forever?" 

Phil shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in strands where it's dried all separated and a it fluffy. 

"Can't." 

Dan pouts. 

"Just as good at home though," Phil insists.

"Yeah, right." 

"A couple of months and you'll be in Manchester," Phil reminds him. 

Dan feels a tiny tug behind his navel, a drop like a bit of fear running through him. 

"yeah."

"You nervous?" 

"Not really," Dan shrugs as best he can in his position, "Excited to come and mess up your flat all the time." 

"Brat," Phil says, lifting his hand away where their fingers are still crossed. 

He makes a noise as he gets up, and Dan laughs at him. 

"Old man," he says, fondly. 

Phil stands up and towers over him, throwing a shadow across Dan's face. It's time to leave the comfort of his position, Dan thinks. 

"Come on," Phil says, holding out hand, "Up." 

Dan sighs once, pulling his feet from the water and bending them underneath him. They have a few more days of paradise left, of their hotel room drenched in the warmth of the tropical heat, the chirp of the crickets late into the night in thick-bladed grass, and then it's back home to the rest of their adventures, whatever they may be. 

He reaches up to slip his hand into Phil's outstretched palm and pulls himself up.


End file.
